Cheap Date
by Like.A.Puppet.Only.Dumber
Summary: All Kirby wants is a few uninterupted moments with Trent, but no one seems to want to allow it. One night when searching for a gift for the teasing bully, Kirby finds that there other blondes who want to spend time with him.
1. The Gift

A/N: So I promised **brilliantmemories **a Derby/Kirby fic and... well here it is I guess xD The whole idea came from her bascially, although it was originally meant to be a oneshot and I think it's going to turn into a couple of chapters... Oh, and also, this is my first upload of SMUT xD So please be gentle with me :3 Although there's not much smut in this chapter, but it might be later lol.

RATED T BUT WILL GO UP TO AN M

So, bm, I hope you like it. AND GET CRACKING WITH THAT SEQUEL FOR ME Dx

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**Cheap Date**

One:

The Gift

"I wanna spend time with you, but not if you're cheap about it!"

Even as Kirby ran across the bridge into Bullworth Vale, he could hear Trent Northwick's smooth voice echoing around in his head. He was so mad at himself for actually doing this - it was past eleven so there was no way in hell there would be anywhere open to actually _buy _anything for the teasing bully. But yet here he was, sprinting along the darkened streets, breath rushing in and out of his mouth, hoping that he could get his hands on something - _anything_ - that he could take back.

They hadn't had a very good day. The pair of them had been left alone in the locker rooms after gym class that morning, only to have a pretty steamy make out session interrupted by Kirby's rowdy, thick skulled friends. Thankfully they hadn't realised what the two boys had been doing in the toilet cubicle, but they had chased Trent away with shaking fists and promises of violence.

Later the two of them arranged to go to the cinema. Back row, left corner… it gave them a few hours of privacy. Kirby would pay of course; Trent wouldn't do anything if he thought he had to spend money on it. It was a perfect set up, but then that bastard Hopkins had to come bumbling over. If they had ignored him it would have been fine. But Kirby was ashamed. He was ashamed that he was ashamed, but in his defence Trent was exactly the same. So the two of them had ran off, only to have a blazing row behind Yum Yums that had almost come to blows. They had stalked away from each other, furious and full of frustration.

After a couple of hours, Trent approached Kirby to apologise. This had surprised Kirby because he knew the bully wasn't one for apologies. They went to the boy's dorm, around the back and underneath the boarded up bathroom window so no one would see them, and made out. They made out for a good half hour until Kirby's lips were sore and there was a deep burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. He had gone to push his hand down Trent's pants - a thing he had wanted to do for months and had never had the guts to try until tonight - but Trent had grabbed his wrist, smirked, and said those awful words.

"Not if you're cheap about it."

"Teasing bastard." Kirby muttered. He slowed to a trot as he saw Yum Yums looming, but even from across the street he could see that it was closed. He cursed lightly, running one hand through his short hair, and glanced up and down the street.

Where the hell else was there? Nowhere really, unless Trent wanted a Chinese takeaway or a packet of smokes from the twenty four hour garage. He wouldn't appreciate either of those things. They didn't have enough thought. Kirby kicked a pebble at his feet in frustration. If he went back empty handed then Trent would be mad. Well not mad, but he would go off to bed, leaving Kirby to spend yet another night with his hand and his Kleenex. He couldn't bare another night like that. Not when he had been that close.

Knowing it was a lost cause, Kirby trudged along the dark street towards the _Aquaberry_ store. It closed at the same time as everything else, but sometimes the Preppies had some midnight hoard thing and the store stayed open a little longer. _Aquaberry_ was a little more than Kirby really wanted to spend on Trent, but if it wasn't that then it was nothing. Maybe just a bracelet or something. How much were they, five dollars?

"More like twenty." he muttered irritably. He stuck his hand in his pocket and felt the notes there. He was quite sure he had about twenty five in torn, dog-eared notes. More than enough.

Kirby felt a pang of exhilaration when he saw the dull glow of lights in the window of _Aquaberry_. He quickened his pace, jogging up the steps towards the store. The floor lights weren't on, it looked more like the backlight was on and nothing else. Maybe they were just closing? Surely they could wait five minutes while Kirby ran in and bought something dumb like a ring or a belt?

He moved to the door, briefly glancing at the gleaming Aquaberry cruiser that leaned against the wall, and then tried the door. It was locked. The sign was flipped to _closed_. Kirby cursed, then hesitated. Should he bother knocking? Was he really _that_ desperate for a little bit of fooling around with Trent. Knowing his luck when he got back Trent would be with his boys, tormenting whatever poor kid had been dumb enough to stay out after curfew. He would have lost interest. But then again the present would always keep for another night, and then he wouldn't have to run off in the heat of the moment.

"Hey!" Kirby called, knocking on the door. "You still open?"

He listened. There was a thump from inside, then the sound of light footsteps. The blinds on the window snapped up and two icy blue eyes looked out at him. Kirby blinked, trying to place those eyes. Then they narrowed in that scrutinising way and Kirby instantly knew that they belonged to Derby Harrington.

_Great_, he thought bitterly. _Just what I damn well need._

Derby would torment him if he knew what he was doing. He almost turned to leave, but before he could the door opened. Derby stood there, smirking at the small Jock in amusement. "What a pleasant surprise."

Kirby cleared his throat. "Is the uh… the store still open?" he asked.

Derby eyed him for a moment. "I'm afraid not." he replied, still looking quite amused.

"Right." Kirby nodded, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. "Well… see ya then."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Derby asked, tilting his head curiously. "Only I'm in here. If you need something that badly I'm sure I can make an exception and let you in. As long as you promise to behave, of course."

Kirby frowned briefly. He had never liked Derby Harrington. The guy was a snake. "How comes you're in there anyway? Doesn't look like the shopkeeper is around."

Derby laughed. "My father owns these stores, Olsen. I have a key." He turned and headed back inside. "Now if you really did want something I suggest you come in and close the door, you're letting the heat out."

Kirby stayed where he was for a moment, peering curiously into the store. What the hell was he doing in here in the middle of the night? On his own? He looked up and down the street but there was no one around. He thought of Trent waiting for him, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing here." Derby said, his back to Kirby as he raked through a rail of plastic covered clothes. "The new season has just come in. I like to get first choice."

Kirby nodded, although he wasn't all that interested. He had never liked this store, it smelled too fruity and the clothes were just weird. Kirby had never understood the fashions. "I just want uh… a bracelet… or something."

Derby glanced over his shoulder, eyes glittering with mischief. "Oh? And what's so important that you would need a bracelet at this hour?"

Kirby felt his cheeks flushing. "Y'know what? Forget it. I'll just get it tomorrow…."

"Oh no," Derby smirked. "Ignore me. It's none of my business." He moved across to Kirby reaching behind him. Kirby skipped out of the way, feeling increasingly unnerved by the situation, and watched as Derby locked the door and removed the keys. The Prep flashed him a grin. "You don't mind if I lock the door? We don't want any old pauper sauntering in, do we?"

Kirby just shrugged. "Guess not." he muttered.

Derby clicked his fingers and waved to him as he headed back across the floor, tossing the keys onto the counter as he went. "There's plenty of bracelets over here," he informed him. "I'm sure there'll be one that takes your fancy."

Kirby reluctantly followed. He suddenly didn't care about going back empty handed; he just wanted to get out of this damned store. He had an awful feeling that this wasn't going to end up good. "Any'll do." he said quickly. "Actually, just give me the cheapest."

Derby chuckled. "Nonsense. Come on over here. Take a look."

Kirby joined his side and watched as Derby pulled open a large wooden drawer, revealing dozens of different bracelets. Some sparkled, some gleamed. Kirby blinked. They were all so flashy, all he wanted was a dumb bracelet.

"See anything you like, Olsen?" Derby enquired, his voice almost mocking.

Kirby swallowed. "Um… I dunno…" He paused and rubbed his ear nervously. He could feel Derby staring at him, and it was making him _very _uncomfortable. "I guess that one." He pointed at a black bracelet. It was the least flashy so it had to be the cheapest.

Derby lifted it out and turned to Kirby. "Well try it on." he insisted, taking Kirby's hand.

Kirby pulled away. "I uh… No thanks. Just give it to me. How much?"

Derby just smirked. "It's free after hours. A little treat from me."

_What the hell_? Kirby thought, alarmed. _Just what is this guy up to? Why is he looking at me like that_? He felt a surge of alarm as Derby began to move forward, taking his hand again.

"I've always felt that the onyx goes well against pale skin." He said as he slipped the bracelet onto Kirby's wrist. "You're not exactly pale, but you're pale enough to make it look good."

Kirby swallowed hard and took a shaky step backward. "Actually… it's not-" He stopped himself. He didn't want to have to get onto the subject to who the bracelet was really for.

Derby kept approaching, his smile sinister. Kirby retreated, and kept retreating until he hit the wall. Much to his mounting apprehension, Derby kept coming towards him, hands pressing against the wall on either side of his shoulders.

"Wha… What the hell are you doin', Harrington?" Kirby stammered, shifting uncomfortably. He wished the wall behind him would just move, but it stayed right where it was, even seeming like it was moving forward. Like it was pushing him into the arms of this grinning, fine-smelling Prep.

"What's wrong, Kirby?" Derby grinned, his icy blue eyes boring right into the smaller Jock's. "You seem uncomfortable."

Kirby swallowed hard, risking a quick look left and right at Derby's arms that pressed against the wall on either side of him. "I uh… I got to be gettin' back. The guys are expectin' me."

Derby just chuckled. "Oh come on, Kirby. Don't take me for an idiot. What would your bullet-headed friends of yours want from _Aquaberry_ in the middle of the night? I know you came here to pick up a little gift for that… _bully_." He said the last word with the hint of a grimace. "I know what he's like, Kirby, and it's not fair that he expects you to have to _buy_ his affections. Don't you agree?"

Kirby shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't stupid; he knew that Derby was just playing with him. Toying with him. All he had to do was stand up to him and get the hell out of the store - it wasn't like Kirby couldn't take him - but… well, for some reason or other, he couldn't bring himself to shove Derby back.

"I dunno what you're talkin' about." Kirby muttered. "I'm not here for that zit covered ass." He felt a pang in his chest from calling Trent that. He didn't mean it, but he couldn't stand the fact Derby knew what he was doing here. It was humiliating.

Derby tilted his head slightly. "You're not? Well Pinky told me she saw the two of you at the cinema earlier today. Together."

Kirby could feel his cheeks flushing. "She's lying. She's full of crap. I wasn't with him. I don't want anything to do with that loser."

Derby smirked and moved close, his mouth a hair's width from the small Jock's ear. "How long have you known, Kirby? How long have you known that you like cock?"

Kirby felt his body flush all over. Finally his paralysis broke and he planted his hands on Derby's chest to shove him back. "I'm not _gay_!" he insisted, angrily.

Derby had anticipated the push and he barely moved. His hands left the wall briefly, but they soon returned to their places at either side of Kirby's shoulders. He chuckled, eyes sparkling with a new light. He had hit a nerve and he knew it. "I'm not judging you, Kirby. After all about eighty percent of Bullworth _is_ gay, or at least bisexual. What are you, then? Do you think you're a fully fledged member? Or do you just like to swing by every now and then?"

Kirby glared defiantly at him. "I'm gonna have the guys kick your ass, Harrington," he fumed, cheeks like two tomatoes. "I don't care who your frigging dad knows."

Derby moved a little closer to Kirby's ear again. "Is that so? Well, my friend, what do you think your friends would say if they heard you were in _Aquaberry_ at night, with me… with the door locked and the lights out?"

Derby's breath tickled his ear and Kirby shivered unwillingly. He felt his skin flush, followed by a familiar feeling in the pits of his stomach. _Oh no_, he thought, miserably. _Don't… don't you dare…_

But it was too late. Because Derby had one knee practically between Kirby's legs, it didn't take him long to notice. His grin just seemed to widen and one hand slipped down the wall so it was by his hip. "I think you've just answered my question."

Kirby swallowed involuntarily, his throat clicking noisily. His legs felt weak beneath him, but Derby's left leg acted as a support that stopped him from sliding down the wall like he wanted to. His heart fluttered in his chest and his stomach knotted as he thought of Trent waiting for him back at school. If only that bastard hadn't insisted on a goddamn _present_. Why the hell did he have to do that? For kicks? Did he enjoy seeing Kirby sprint off into the night to grab some measly, useless trinket? Just so they could have yet another heavy make out session that left both of them hot and bothered but unwilling to go any further with each other. The sad truth was that both Kirby and Trent wanted each other, _badly, _but they couldn't admit that to themselves. Neither of them could admit that they might actually be… well… into… _guys_.

"D-Derby man… this isn't funny." Kirby stammered, his mouth suddenly very dry.

"I'm not laughing, Olsen."

His voice was low and his breath hot. It tickled Kirby's ear and caused yet another shiver to rack through his body. "But… you're not… you're with-"

His voice failed him as he felt Derby's tongue run across his earlobe, closely followed by a light nip of his teeth. A wavering sigh escaped Kirby's mouth and his legs suddenly went from weak to rigid. Derby pushed his knee further him, pressing hard against the small Jock's humiliating erection. Derby's lips moved to his neck, kissing and nipping, and strong hands moved to his waist. His fingers hooked the sides of his jeans. The feel of Derby's cool fingers on his own flushed skin brought reality back to him, and before he could think fully of the consequences he planting his hands on Derby's chest and pushed as hard as he could. Derby stumbled back, slamming into the counter with quite a lot of force.

"I should kick your ass, Harrington!" Kirby cried. He had wanted to sound aggressive and angry, but his voice was nothing but a wavering whine. His jeans felt too tight and he was only too aware of his body trembling all over.

Derby leaned against the counter, blinking at him. He looked shocked. It was probably the first time anyone had ever done that to him. The first time someone had said _no_ to him. But then the surprise melted away and that smirk returned. He straightened up, readjusted his shirt, and brushed down the front of his sweater. "Right you are." he nodded, an unrecognisable gleam in his eye. "I was out of line, and I apologise." He held Kirby's gaze for a moment longer, and then scooped the keys up from the counter behind him. "You can go. If you like."

Kirby watched him, chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. Derby moved smoothly and gracefully, without so much as a hint off embarrassment. It was like he had just been keeping Kirby in deep conversation, and hadn't just had him pinned up against the wall with his tongue practically in his ear. Kirby gritted his jaw, trying to keep his thoughts on Trent waiting for him. He would tell Trent about it, and the pair of them would go and kick Harrington's ass later. Okay so the other Preps wouldn't make it that easy… In fact they probably wouldn't be able to get anywhere near Derby, but Kirby needed to get him back for making him feel so… so damned _gay_.

Derby turned the key in the lock and opened the door slightly. The cool autumn air rushed inside, soothing Kirby's burning cheeks. "Well off you go." Derby shrugged. "Like you said, the guys will be wondering where you are."

Kirby glared at him. He was sickened by the fact he was still hard - actually he was sickened by the fact he was hard _at all_, but then again he was just a teenage boy. A dog sniffing at his ear like that would probably be enough to give him a stiffy. It didn't mean anything. After a dubious few seconds when he didn't think he was going to be able to move, he began to half walk - half stagger to the door.

"Be careful on the walk back." Derby said amiably as he examined his perfect fingernails. "Make sure you get back in one piece for Trent."

That was the last straw. He didn't care if it was the truth that he was heading back to see Trent - he couldn't stand to be mocked because of it. Trent was special, that was all. He was a cool guy, a guy that understood him. They could joke around and then they could fool around, and it was nothing. They didn't bother anyone and no one bothered them. And _no one_ took the piss out of them.

Kirby lashed out with one fist, but Derby was quick. He managed to kick the door shut again, grab Kirby's arm and slam him against it. The blinds rattled and bent with the force. Derby pressed his elbow against Kirby's spine and he pinned his outstretched arm against the window.

"Now, now, Olsen," Derby whispered in his ear. "That's no way to treat a friend, is it? I was just telling you to have a safe journey."

Kirby gritted his teeth and struggled, but Derby was stronger than him. Jesus the kid was much stronger than he looked. "Get the hell offa me!" he wheezed, his anger giving way to apprehension.

"Do you want me to?" Derby whispered, his hand running around Kirby's hips to the top of his jeans. His fingers slipped beneath the denim and brushed the elastic of his boxers, short neat nails lighting scraping a line above his crotch. "Do you really want to go running back to him? He'll never let you go anywhere with him, Kirby. Whenever you think you're even close, he'll send you on a wild goose chase. Don't you see, Olsen? He likes seeing you desperate. He likes seeing you _wanting…_" He paused to run his lips across the back of Kirby's ear.

Kirby responded with a shudder and a gasp.

"Do you like being his little puppy? Do you like running around, fetching sticks and hoping for a reward? Because… well, I think the truth is that Trent won't give it to you. I don't think he's on the same level as you…"

Derby's fingers stopped trailing Kirby's lower abdomen and delved deeper, slipping under the elastic of his boxers. His other hand released Kirby's arm and ran slowly towards his chest, down his side, up his shirt. Kirby's arm remained rigid against the window.

"So tell me, Kirby," Derby smirked, face the other boys neck. "Do you think you're on my level?"

Derby's cool hand lightly brushed Kirby's penis, causing an electric shock reaction in the Jock. He bucked, pushing himself away from the door and causing Derby to release him and back away. Stomach knotted and cheeks burning furiously, Kirby hauled open the door and stumbled out into the cold night air. He hurried away, half limping from the rock hard erection the dug into his leg, and fled the humiliation of the store.

He didn't want to look back. If he looked back he knew he would see Derby laughing.

If he looked back he knew he would go back.

So he kept running. Back to Trent.


	2. The Doubt

A/N: Just a dinky chapter x3 The next one might be pretty heavy, so at least if it has it's own chapter I can give plenty of warnings xD

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Two:

The Doubt

It was a good job that Kirby was a Jock, otherwise he would have probably had a heart attack by the time he reached the school gates. He had sprinted the whole way, not slowing down once. His heart was thudding dangerously fast - so fast that he thought his chest might just explode - but it didn't. He was running at such speed he couldn't stop himself and ended up running into one of gates. He grabbed the bars and lost his balance, dropping painfully to his knees. He stayed there for a few moments, clutching the cold metal and panting heavily, clouds of mist pouring from his mouth and nose.

Had that just happened? No way. He must have had some kind of brain lapse or something because there was no way on God's green earth that Derby Harrington would shove his perfectly manicured hands down Kirby Olsen's pants. Derby was with Pinky Gauthier - engaged, even. And if he was a queer he was going to be with that big redheaded Preppy Bif. Derby wasn't that kind of guy. He wouldn't do stuff like that. Gord was the man-whore! If it had been Gord then Kirby would still have been shaken, but he wouldn't be so shocked.

Slowly, Kirby managed to pull himself to his feet. Because of the sprint back his legs felt like jelly, and even the thought of walking to the boy's dorm made him groan inwardly. He looked down, feeling disgusted with himself for the night's events. Then he noticed it on his wrist, and felt a wave of nausea. He fumbled to rip the bracelet off and finally removed it, holding it in front of him between his thumb and forefinger. He scowled at it, the disgust suddenly giving way to anger.

This was Trent's fault. If that dumb bastard wasn't so goddamned shallow and materialistic then this wouldn't have happened. Why the hell did he run off like that for him anyway? Kirby didn't like to think of himself as desperate, but he was sure starting to look like it. Well that was the last time he would do it. In fact, that was the last time he would do anything for Trent. Derby had been right; Kirby didn't have to pay for his affections. He didn't have to pay for anyone's affections.

"Hey, baby. You back so soon?"

Kirby whirled around, lips curling back from his teeth. Trent stood a little ahead, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his broad chest. He grinned lopsidedly, a smile that always made Kirby melt a little inside, and winked.

"So, still feeling cheap?" the bully smirked, eyeing Kirby up and down hungrily.

"You bastard!" Kirby yelled angrily, surprised at the force of his own voice. "I'm sick of your shit, Trent!"

Trent blinked, also surprised by the small Jock's sudden ferocity. He moved away from the wall, hands dropping by his sides. He laughed nervously. "What? C'mon, Kirb, what are you talking about?"

Kirby stalked forward and shoved Trent hard in his shoulder. The blonde stumbled slightly, but returned to his position with a bewildered expression. "You!" Kirby yelled, feeling his fists balling by his sides. "Sending me out like… like a…" He couldn't think of his own words, and before he could even register what he was saying he was repeating Derby. "Like a puppy! Running around and… and fetching sticks so you'll give me even… even a little bit. Well I'm not doing it anymore, Trent. Find someone else's head to mess around with."

He started to storm past him, feeling a lump in his throat. There was no way he was going to cry though. Not in front of that bastard. But apparently Trent had no intention of allowing Kirby to leave. He grabbed his arm tightly, frown on his face.

"What the hell is your problem?" he demanded in a hushed voice. "Your yelling is going to have the whole campus up! Do you want everyone to know?"

Kirby shoved him off angrily, feeling hot tears stinging his eyes. "Screw you! I don't care!" He suddenly became aware of the bracelet in his hand and grabbed Trent's arm, stuffing the trinket into his palm. "There! There's your fucking present! Happy now?"

Trent looked down at the bracelet, and held it up. "I didn't ask you for this you frigging idiot!" he almost snarled. "I was just messin' with you, Kirb! It's not my fault that you're dumb enough to run off into the night to get… What the hell is this anyway?"

Trent's reaction to the bracelet made Kirby's chest ache. He suddenly wanted to yell at him and tell him about that horrible experience in the store, not caring if the whole campus heard him, but he managed to bite his tongue. Literally. He tasted the warm, coppery blood in his mouth. Saying nothing, he turned and stalked towards the boys dorm, leaving Trent clutching the bracelet in his fist.

"Kirb!" he called after him. "Kirby! C'mon man, I'm sorry! Jeez, don't be such a bitch!"

Kirby ignored him and continued to storm away. After this night he was going to have nothing else to do with Trent Northwick.

Now matter how much it hurt.


	3. The Proposition

A/N: Hope this is to your satisfaction, sweety pie xD THE END OF THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M! MMMMMM so don't bitch at me if you get a surprise xD And this is my first guy on guy thing... so be nice xD

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Three:

The Proposition

"Olsen, heads up!"

Kirby hadn't been paying much attention to the game going on around him, so he had no chance of stopping the huge leather football that was currently whistling through the air towards his face. He tried to shield his head, wrapping his arms around in a practically useless fleshy helmet. The football bounced hard off the only part of his exposed face and he hit the grass like a sack of crap.

He lay there, dazed and staring up at the bright blue sky above the football field. He heard the heavy footsteps of his team mates running over to check on him. The first one to reach him was Damon and he peered down at Kirby, his solid, dark head blotting out the bright sun.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Olsen?" he demanded in his deep voice. "You ain't got your mind in the game, have you?"

Kirby rubbed his head. He wished he had taken the time to suit up, but the guys had just wanted a quick three aside game so at the time he had seen no reason to. Now he regretted it as he could feel his cheek beginning to swell a little. "Sorry, man," he muttered, sitting up. "I've just had a lot on my mind."

Damon snorted through his flared nostrils. "Yeah well you better get your ass in gear for when we're playing for real. I'm not losing because you're thinking about what colour panties to wear to impress your boyfriend."

Kirby shot him a disgruntled stare. Damon hadn't said that as a dig at his relationship with Trent. None of the Jocks knew about that - it was just a general jibe that he would have used against anyone. "Shut up, man." Kirby muttered lamely, still dizzy.

Casey lumbered over, his cap pulled down over his floppy blonde hair as usual. He grinned lopsidedly at Kirby and held out a huge hand to him. "Sorry 'bout that, man," he laughed. "Didn't realise you weren't looking!"

Kirby took his hand reluctantly, knowing the huge Jock would probably manage to yank his arm out of his socket. "No worries." he replied. Casey did just as Kirby had expected and hauled him onto his feet. He practically left the ground for a moment. It did little to help his spinning head.

"Ah I know that look," Casey smirked, prodding Kirby hard in his shoulder. "You got girl troubles, ain't you?"

Kirby glanced around. Damon had picked up the ball and had run off to join the other guys. Dan tried to tackle him, but Damon placed one huge hand on the smaller Jock's face and shoved him down to the ground with ease. Kirby wasn't in the mood for a game anymore. The blow to his head had made him feel sick. He waved a dismissive hand to Casey and headed for the bleachers.

"Somethin' like that I guess." he replied. "I'm gonna sit out the rest of it."

Casey followed him, removing his cap briefly to run his fingers through his hair. "Hey, I'm the master when it comes to girls, Kirb. Why don't we see if I can't help you out a little, huh?"

Kirby rolled his eyes and flopped down on the bench. "It's nothing, Case. Just leave it."

Casey ignored him - he had never been one for taking a hint. He draped a heavy arm around Kirby's shoulders and pointed to the cheerleaders that were prancing around on the sidelines. Mandy, Christy, Pinky and Angie. Four pretty steaming girls, but Kirby didn't feel anything for any of them. Even when Christy attempted a star jump and flashed a pair of light pink panties it did nothing.

"Which one is it then, huh?" Casey grinned. "It's gotta be a cheerleader. The rest of them are frigging dogs."

Kirby looked down at his hands and wondered how Casey would react if he told him that it wasn't any of those girls who were the problem. That it wasn't even a girl that was the problem. He knew exactly how the bigger boy would react - he would snatch his hand away like it was contagious or something and probably run off and cower in the corner. If the truth came out then Kirby could kiss goodbye to his Jock status.

"I don't wanna talk about it, Case. It's nothing. It's nobody."

Casey shoved him and snorted. "Don't be such a pussy. What's the problem? She not putting out?"

Kirby clenched his jaw and turned his head away. He leaned forward, elbow on his knees, and glowered at the ground. Well that was the problem, wasn't it? Trent's stupid attitude to everything was the problem. "Something like that." he mumbled, disgruntled.

"Ah that's textbook." Casey chuckled. "I just need to ask one question; how long have you been trying?"

Kirby blinked. How long had he been trying to get in Trent's pants? That thought made him frown deeper, but it was true. The fact of the matter was that he did want to get into Trent's pants. He wanted that blonde bully badly, no matter how much of a bastard he was. "A while I guess."

"Well how long?" Casey demanded. "Hours, days, weeks? It makes a difference y'know."

Kirby did the math. "A few months."

"A few months?" Casey almost choked. "Jesus Christ man you must have some patience. Screw that. If the bitch hasn't put out after one month at the most, you dump her ass and find someone else. Jesus, Kirb, everyone knows that. What's wrong with you? You're like a frigging girl sometimes."

Kirby continued to glower at the floor silently. Find someone else? Someone who wasn't Trent? Easier said than done.

Casey stood up. "Well you just keep moping you little pussy," he chuckled. "Maybe you'll grow some balls."

He jogged off towards the others, getting the ball thrown to him as soon as he was in range. Kirby watched them all running around for a few moments, wondering why the hell he hung around with such brain-dead gorillas. Well at least this way he wouldn't get bullied. Jocks were above that. Although Trent was above that too.

With a heavy sigh Kirby pushed himself up and headed for the steps. He was too pent up. He needed to relive some tension, and he couldn't do it with these guys around. He scooped up a basketball and headed up towards the courts, deciding a bit of a vigorous workout was in order.

* * *

The guys could tell Kirby was trying to work something out of his system, so they left him to his angry one-man game of basketball when they trooped through the gym to shower. They nodded solemnly to him, their way of showing their support for whatever the hell was bugging him. It only annoyed Kirby further because he knew if they knew the truth then they certainly wouldn't be nodding at him.

He lost track of time. He ran the length of the gym, the basketball pounding noisily on the polished floor; echoing around the huge room. He let out a grunt as he jumped, throwing the ball towards the hoop. He got it in every time, but then again he had always been pretty good at basketball despite his size. His heart was thudding in his chest and sweat was pouring out of him, but he didn't want to stop.

Kirby swept his hand over his forehead, wiping away the slick sweat, grabbed the ball again. He moved to the far end of the gym again and pounded the ball off the floor. How he wished that the ball was Trent's head. That thought filled him with a brand new burst of adrenaline and he raced again for the hoop, grunting and puffing as he hopped, then leapt, and slammed the ball through the hoop. He dropped hard back onto his feet and leaned his hands on his knees, finding it hard to catch his breath. Sweat dripped off the end of his nose and tumbled to the ground. He panted, trying to regain himself. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back, making his jersey stick to his back uncomfortably. The sensation irritated him and he grabbed his jersey, quickly struggling out of it and tossing it to the ground.

Staring at the discarded jersey, he suddenly felt a wave of melancholy. Why the hell was he acting so crazy? Was it really because he was annoyed with Trent for treating him like an idiot, or was it because of the thing with Derby in the store? He knew the thing with Derby had shaken him, but it shouldn't have affected him this much. After all it was nearly every other day when someone tried to make a move on someone else in this place. Kirby would never forget the time Juri had made a move on him in the showers. Now that had been scary - that big bastard wrapping his hand around Kirby's small waist and trying to jack him off as the steaming water rained down on them. Kirby had freaked out, Juri had apologised, claiming he must have gotten the wrong end of the stick, and the whole thing had been forgotten about.

But Derby… there was something different about this. It was different because… well, as much as it made Kirby sick to think of it, he had a strong feeling that if Derby had stopped him from leaving Aquaberry last night it wouldn't have taken him long to come around to the Preppy's way of thinking.

Upon reflection, Derby's cool hands had felt nice. Better than nice…

"Your stamina is quite impressive, Olsen. You've been in here for nearly five hours you know."

Kirby whirled around, his damp hair slapping his forehead. He straightened up, eyes widening at the sight of Derby by the gym doors, leaning there with his arms folded over his flawless Aquaberry sweater. He was smirking, his icy eyes fixed on Kirby. He didn't move, nor did he say anything else. Kirby was fixed to the spot, staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

Five hours? He thought, slightly panicked. That meant it had to be at least eleven, meaning curfew would be in effect. That meant the guys would be either at the field or at the carnival. They certainly wouldn't be in the gym. No one would come in the gym until morning.

Kirby cleared his throat and managed to get moving, ,despite the fact his legs had gone weak. "What the hell do you want?" he said, hoping to sound fierce but instead sounding strangely neutral.

Derby glanced briefly at his fingernails. "I heard your little gift didn't go down so well last night."

Kirby picked up his damp jersey and threw it over his shoulder. He turned on the Prep with a scowl. "Buzz off you goddamn weirdo," he snarled, now sounding the way he wanted. "I don't know what game you're trying to pull here but I'm not letting you screw me over, Harrington. You've got some kind of bet on with those other rich scumbags, ain't you? Well I'm not falling for any of your shitty games, so you better get the hell out of here before I kick your ass."

Derby cocked his head and smirked patronisingly. "Oh Kirby, that's quite rude. I'm here as a friend. I just want to help you." A gleam flashed in his eyes and he moved forward off the wall. "It pains me to see you upset like this."

Kirby frowned at Derby as he made a slow approach, his hands pushed into the pockets of his black slacks. He didn't want to show this bastard that he was scared of him. "Screw off, Derby. I'm not interested."

"I understand you know," Derby smirked. "Why you're angry. It's bad enough that you've got all these… mixed feelings inside without having someone like Trent Northwick playing with them. That's what this is all about, isn't it? The reason you're racing around in here like a ravenous dog? It's because you're not getting what you want. It's a horrible feeling when you don't get what you want, although I suppose I'm lucky as I don't have to worry about that very often."

Kirby watched him closely, standing his ground. Derby's expression was mischievous and mocking, but at the same time there was a hint of honesty there that confused Kirby to no end. What the hell was this guy's game? What did he want?

"Aren't you worried?" Derby asked, tilting his head and stopping in front of him. "About how it would be, I mean."

Kirby narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"When you finally get what you want," Derby smirked. "Having that disgusting pauper sweating over you. Hands running all over you, moaning in your ear…" He reached out and ran a finger down the front of Kirby's chest.

Kirby jumped and took a step back. He blinked and swallowed hard. "What are you getting at, Harrington?" he choked.

Derby chuckled softly and patronisingly. "You do know why Trent is holding you off, don't you? Because he's not sure if you mean it. You might just think you want that. Could be that you've gotten crossed wires somewhere; perhaps you've seen one too many dicks in the communal showers and you think that's what you actually want. The girls don't have any effect on you because you don't see enough of them. I want to help you find out what you really are, Kirby. Do you want me to help you?"

Kirby was practically grinding his teeth. "And how are you going to do that?"

Derby moved forward so he was nose-to-nose with the small Jock. This time Kirby didn't back away. A part of his brain was screaming at him to run before this got out of hand, but there was another, stronger part that was urging him to stay right where he was. Convincing him that this was important. Derby's hands; as ice cold as they had been last night in the store - ran lightly up the Kirby's sides, from the line of his shorts to just blow his armpits. The sensation made him shudder and gasp.

"I have my means." Derby said, grinning darkly.

Kirby's throat convulsed as he swallowed involuntarily. He blinked as he felt Derby's breath on his lips, then felt a heavy wave of disorientation as the Prep's lips brushed his own. They were soft, non-invasive, testing. Kirby's own lips parted, sucking in a sharp breath. Derby smirked, his hands slipping around Kirby's bare waist. He kissed him again a little more confidently, his perfect teeth nipping the Jock's wavering bottom lip.

"Wh- what…" Kirby started, but his voice failed there.

Derby pushed his lips against Kirby's with a force that surprised the Jock. His icy hands gripped tightly onto his waist and he was suddenly aware of being shoved quickly, his feet stumbling but somehow managing to keep him from tripping up. He slammed against the gym bars against the back wall hard, one of them digging painfully into his back. He released a brief cry, but it was muffled as Derby's tongue flickered into his mouth, running around the side of his cheek and tickling the roof of his mouth. Exploring eagerly.

What the hell was going on? Kirby was confused, really fucking confused. This couldn't be a joke. Derby Harrington wouldn't go this far. The only way Derby would actually do something like this was if he meant it. Kirby gasped as one of Derby's hands delved down the front of his shorts. He grasped Kirby's erection tightly, and much to the Jock's surprise he felt his own hands grasping tightly onto Derby's solid shoulders, his fingers digging into the expensive material. His own tongue began to wrestle with the foreign one in his mouth, his body beginning to shudder.

"Do you want an update, Olsen?" Derby whispered, his breath hot in Kirby's wanting mouth. His hand squeezed tighter and slowly began to move up and down. "I think you have a thing for blondes."

Kirby could feel his lower abdomen growing heavy. Jesus this was insane! He couldn't believe that this was happening, that Derby Harrington, the leader of the pompous, snide Preppy bastards currently had him pinned up against the gym beams and was jerking him off.

This had to be some kind of hallucination. That ball that had hit him in the head had done more damage than he had thought. There was no way that this…

"Aahh…" Kirby moaned, feeling a warm tug somewhere inside of him. This wasn't a dream.

Derby moved his face to Kirby's neck, his tongue running down his wet skin to his collar bone, then back up to his ear. He took the earlobe in his mouth, sucked it once and nipped it with his teeth. Kirby hissed, clinging tighter onto Derby's shoulders. He could feel the other boy's muscles working under his sweater as his arm pumped faster. Kirby's heart thumped in his chest as he could feel himself growing close to a climax.

Jesus don't, he begged himself. Not so soon, not this quickly…

He closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold it back, trying to think of something other than the warm tongue and soft lips that left cool trails on his skin, trying to prevent the inevitable… but Derby was going faster and he didn't think he could hold it much longer.

"Ah, Derby…" Kirby breathed, nails digging deeper into his shoulders. "I think I… I think I'm gonna…"

Derby's mouth smothered his words, his tongue once again venturing inside where it didn't belong. Kirby could taste his own salty sweat from his skin. Derby squeezed harder, hard enough to hurt, and he grunted himself with the force he used. Kirby moaned loudly against him, his left arm releasing the Prep and grabbing tightly onto one of the beams behind his head.

Everything around him melted away. It felt like there was nothing else in the world apart from both of their hot, shuddering bodies. Thoughts of Trent were nothing but a distant haze. The idea that someone could walk in and catch the two of them were ludicrous - Kirby wouldn't even care. The fact that this was Derby Harrington making him feel so damn good… well, it only heightened the experience.

Kirby broke away from Derby's lips with a gasp and a curse. He couldn't hold it any longer. His hands tightened on their holds, one hand squeezing the bar and the fingernails of his other hand digging hard into Derby's shoulder. Derby grunted, muttering something lightly before pressing his lips against the euphoric boy's neck and sucking hard. He would leave a mark, but Kirby didn't care.

He didn't care about anything.

His groans echoed around the gym as he finally lost his control. He came all over Derby's hand, his stomach feeling light and tingly. His legs quivered, as did the rest of him, and he slumped against the bars, eyes closing and head lolling. He panted heavily, body gradually slowing down and feeling returning to his numb, satisfied body.

"That…" he breathed, eyes tightly shut. "That was…"

Derby's hand withdrew sharply and he heard the squeak of his smart shoes on the polished floor. He cleared his throat - a formal, passive sound. Kirby managed to lean his head back against the bars and open his eyes. Derby stood facing to the side, hand out in front of him as he reached into his pocket with his other. Kirby's stomach fluttered at the sight of the white sticky mess on the Prep's hand. His exhilaration was suddenly engulfed by another, more unwelcomed feeling; shame.

Derby pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to clean up his hand. He didn't look at Kirby. In fact he wiped his hand like it was just wet from water, or perhaps a spilled drink. "Next time, Olsen," Derby said in a smooth, formal voice. "Be more careful with my sweater."

With that he tossed the ruined handkerchief at Kirby's quivering feet and headed away, the sound of his squeaking Aquaberry loafers echoing around the gym. Kirby watched him go, still panting lightly and gripping onto the bars behind him. Derby disappeared out of the gym without another word, the door closing loudly behind him.

The sound echoed around the gym, until silence prevailed again. Kirby's eyes went to the balled up handkerchief at his feet. The sticky substance glistened in the fluorescent lights, glazing to two fancy embroided letters on the corner; DH.

Kirby stared at it impassively for a moment, before feeling a lurch in his stomach. He clamped a hand over his mouth and raced for the bathroom.


	4. The Betrayal

A/N: Another short chapter, but there is a hint of nastiness in here too xD Not as much as the last one but... :P Should I put this up to an M?

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Four:

The Betrayal

Kirby lay on his side in his bed, clutching the sheets to his chest and stared with wide eyes at the wall that his bed stood against. His roommate, the all-star quarterback Ted Thompson, was out as usual. Probably somewhere with Mandy. Or Christy. The nights he spent with them alternated, and Kirby wasn't sure if it was a Mandy night or a Christy night.

But that wasn't really what Kirby was thinking about. He was glad Ted wasn't in. If he had seen the state of Kirby when he had dragged himself into the dorm he would have known something was wrong. Kirby had been white as a sheet, the faint scent of puke still on his breath from where he had thrown up for half an hour in the gym bathroom. Ted might be dumb, but he cared about his friends. He would have forced it out of Kirby, and the way he had been feeling on his return he probably would have told the head Jock about everything.

That certainly wouldn't have gone down too well.

But thankfully he didn't have to do that. He had stripped off, left his violated clothes in a pile on the floor, and had scrambled under the covers. At least there he was safe. Although he wasn't safe from his haunting thoughts.

He felt like a slut. A cheap slut who had just been there for Derby's amusement. His dick still throbbed from the force that the Prep had used, and he could still feel the coolness on his skin from where the Prep had touched him, almost like Derby had left icy shards embedded in his skin. It was an awful feeling. Kirby couldn't remember the last time he had felt this cruddy. The thought of getting up in the morning and going to class as usual made him feel physically sick. Maybe he could pretend he was ill tomorrow and get to stay in the dorm. But then he would have to go see the Nurse, and she made kids with broken legs go to class. And then there was Burton - there was no way that fat bastard would let him miss practice.

Kirby pulled the sheet over his head, screwing his eyes shut. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He didn't want to have to think about Derby fucking Harrington, or Trent fucking Northwick. They were bastards, both of them. If he had an ounce of sense he would stay away from both of them. Maybe if he made sure he stuck with the guys - Damon and Ted in particular - then he could keep all this shit away from him. Ted and Damon could protect him without even realising.

That's what friends are for, right?

He tried to clear his mind, telling himself that it would be all okay in the morning, but a faint murmuring interrupted his attempt at peace. He pulled his pillow over his head and tried to drown out the noise, wanting nothing more than to be left in peace. He didn't want to spend another waking moment at this stupid school anymore. He just wanted to go home, go to any school other than this one. Away from these sadistic psychos…

His eyes opened suddenly. Wait. That was Trent's voice. Who would he be talking to at this time?

Kirby didn't move for a few minutes. He just remained under the sheets, staring into the blackness around him. Oh so what if it's Trent, a little voice hissed. He's probably just up bullying that kid who sleep walks. You know for a fact he sometimes stays up late, so what's the big deal? Wasn't that long ago that you wanted nothing to do with him anyway.

Kirby snorted and tossed the sheets back. He certainly had no chance of sleep if he knew Trent was creeping around in the corridor. He grabbed his shorts from the floor, hesitating because he knew they were probably still marked from his run in with Derby. It's not as if he was going right out the door, so it didn't matter. He pulled them on and quietly moved to the door, wrapping his hand around the handle.

He hesitated, pressing his ear against the door. It was definitely Trent, but who was he talking to? Their voices were so quiet… he couldn't be bullying someone, not whilst talking that quietly. And he thought he heard… a grunt. A moan, perhaps. Kirby's curiosity was roused and he gently opened the door, poking his head out into the corridor.

The lights in the common room were off for some reason, and only the dull glow of the soda machine could be seen from inside. The rest of the dorm was deserted - the only sounds were of light snores from the surrounding rooms, and Trent's breathy voice. Coming from the darkened common room. There was another voice that caught Kirby's attention. He couldn't place it though.

He didn't want to come out of the room, mainly because he didn't want anyone to see him creeping around in his shorts - but at the same time he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he saw into that common room. He deliberated it for a few seconds, and then sighed irritably. He crept out of the door and quietly made his way up the corridor. Times like these made him appreciate that he was smaller than the other Jocks. Damon, Casey or Ted wouldn't be able to creep up on a deaf hippo. Kirby, on the other hand, was built better for it.

Kirby kept to the wall, tilting his head so he could hear. Trent was murmuring something. His voice was so low that Kirby was surprised he had even been able to hear him from his room at all. He hesitated, stopping under the windows that ran along the wall. He was going to regret doing this, he knew. He could already tell by the breathy sighs and murmurs coming from that room. But he couldn't not look now. He turned, got on his tip-toes, and peered through one of the glass panes.

Nothing could have really prepared him for what he saw through that window. Most of the worst was hidden by the back of the couch, but he could see enough to make his stomach churn. Trent was on his back, his trademark jeans and white shirt dumped carelessly on the floor. His legs were up in the air, white socks still on his feet, and between those legs - hammering away, was that horrible little new kid. Hopkins.

It was obvious they didn't give a shit if anyone walked in on them. Probably because it was after two am and even that sleepwalking weirdo didn't come out of his room at this time. Although they seemed to be unaware that Ted was still out - but Ted probably wouldn't come back. He would be in the equipment shed with Mandy. Or Christy. Whatever day it was. Trent was mumbling something to Jimmy, sweat glistening on his forehead as the angry little red-head thrust away, one strong hand gripping tightly on the back of the couch whilst the other was holding one of Trent's legs up in the air. Trent's eyes were shut, his eyebrows drawn together in a look of slight discomfort, but his lips kept moving, releasing that soft muttering that made Kirby's heart flutter.

It also made his heart sink.

Kirby pushed away from the wall, expression now blank and exhausted. He trudged back to his room, not bothering to be quiet as he closed his door. But at least his mind was now blank. He climbed into bed, engulfed by a sweet emptiness that he could only savour, and was asleep in minutes.


	5. The Realisation

A/N: Heh thought I should update this, but only because of the reviews I got :p Thanks for those! This is just a short chapter, but the action should kick off again soonish. Just curious though, would you like this to be quite a short story that ends in a couple of chapters, or a longer and more dramatic one - more like the way Shiny Happy Psychos went?

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Five:

The Realisation

Kirby wasn't having a particularly good morning. He had failed the pop quiz in English, he stepped in something gross and sticky that totally screwed up his new shoes, and Mr Burton caught him skipping football practice and made him do twelve laps of the football field. Then to top in all off the hot water was out in the guy's shower room, so he put himself through the misery of an ice cold shower. He could have easily waited until he got to the dorm to shower, but he was avoiding the dorm.

For obvious reasons.

The football field was empty, mainly because lunchtime and everyone was either braving Edna's casserole or venturing into town for something that wouldn't give them gut rot. Kirby didn't have an appetite though, and basically couldn't face potentially being in the same room as Trent, Jimmy and Derby. He was quite sure if he was faced with all three of them then he would have some kind of episode. Probably end up making an idiot of himself in front of the whole school. That was the last thing he needed.

So he sat on the bleachers and stared blankly across the vast empty field, wondering what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his day. He wasn't going to class. It wasn't like it was important anyway, it was only chemistry. Dr Watts probably wouldn't even notice that he was missing. He needed something to cheer him up. Maybe he could head into town and get some new shoes…?

That sounded good. Shoes always cheered Kirby up. Although he already owned all the shoes in all the stores in Bullworth. Maybe he could hop on the bus and head into the city? It would get him away from this dump for a while and the city had the most incredible footwear… If he was caught by the teachers he would be in big trouble. Kids wandering out of town was a big no-no. But he needed the break. Maybe it would be worth the risk.

"Well hey there, stranger."

Kirby blinked, glancing around at the slightly squeaky sound of Christy Martin's voice. He was prepared to be irritated and grumpy at being interrupted, but he suddenly realised that he didn't actually mind that it was Christy. He sat back a little, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey Christy. What's up?"

She sat beside him, the skirt of her dark blue cheerleading outfit skimming her upper thigh. She turned to him, sitting closer than she needed to and smiling mischievously at him. Christy was pretty, she was hot, and she was a slut. Kirby wasn't dumb; the only reason she had come down here to sit with him was because she was probably feeling a little hot herself.

"Oh nothing," she sighed, twirling her hair around one finger. "Just wandering around, waiting for cheerleading practice to start…" She leaned back a little, making a show of pushing her chest out as she looked across the empty field. "I can't believe everyone is actually eating in the cafeteria. I heard that Edna has been giving out milk from that Nerd's rat with breakfasts. I get why Mandy is there because then she'll be able to puke without doing it herself…"

Kirby eyed the promiscuous cheerleader beside him. He had dated her in his very first year at Bullworth Academy, but they had only been little kids. It hadn't extended much further than holding hands and giggling together behind the girl's dorm while they checked out what was down the others pants. She was always making out with someone nowadays, but this month her focus seemed to be on Ted. Mandy was oblivious to it, of course - or at least she claimed to be. But the point was at the moment, Christy was Ted's. If she was down here looking for something with Kirby, he was going to have to be careful.

"I was just about to head into town," Kirby said, shifting uncomfortably as she pushed her knee against his. "I'm not having the best morning. I think I need to go find some loser and dish out some poundcake."

Christy smirked and leaned towards him. "Aw, bad morning?" She reached out and brushed his hair with her finger. He moved away slightly, wary of her advances. "Well I haven't had the best day either. Maybe we could cheer each other up?"

Kirby eyed her. He couldn't understand why Christy didn't have the same reputation as Lola. She was pretty much the same; she would practically get with any guy who showed interest. And any guy who didn't show interest as the case would be now. But then Kirby found himself wondering why he was leaning away from her. He was a young, fit, good-looking guy. Christy was hot and practically handing it to him on a plate. It wasn't like he was tied down with anyone right now. If Christy was up for some fooling around, then why the hell should he say no? Why the hell would he say no? Because of Ted? Because of Trent?

Oh hell no.

He half smiled back at her. "Did you have something in mind?" His voice was actually quite weak, which was a little embarrassing. He never had this problem when he was flirting with Trent. He had whispered some foul things in the bully's ear.

A wicked smirk flickered across Christy's pretty face and she glanced over her shoulder towards the steps that led up towards the gym. Seeing no one, she turned back to Kirby, leaning towards him and tilting her head slightly to the left. "Would you like to come and help me with something in the equipment shed, Kirby?"

Kirby swallowed, annoyed with himself. He was acting like a scared little virgin the way he kept looking away and licking his lips. He certainly wasn't a virgin, and he would kick the shit out of anyone who tried to say otherwise. Or at least he wasn't a virgin with a girl. It had been boys he had been spending most of his time with the past year, and even if he hadn't gone the whole way with them, it still felt weird having a soft, smooth girl pushing herself towards him.

He wasn't given the time to think about his situation any longer as Christy's hand firmly grabbed his balls.

He had no control over what happened next. He wasn't even quite sure on why he did it, but he suddenly, and very unexpectedly, smacked Christy's hand away and hopped up off the bench like it had just caught fire. To add insult to injury he stumbled over his own feet and nearly landed flat on his back on the pitch. Thankfully though it didn't go that far and he managed to catch himself. But the damage was already done.

Christy was staring at him with her mouth slightly open, still leaned over to the spot where he had sprang from. Kirby stared back at her, unsure of what to do. He could insist that something stung him, or he just remembered he had to be somewhere, but they both knew that was a lie. The way Christy's left eye narrowed just proved that she knew exactly what had happened there.

She rose slowly, smoothing down the front of her cheerleading dress. "That's okay, Kirby," she said after an agonising pause. "I always thought that anyway."

Christy turned and headed away, no doubt ready to burst with her new piece of gossip. Kirby wanted to chase her and grab her, tell her that he was just stung or bitten by some bug and prove his point by sticking his hand up his skirt. She was on her way to spread around the whole school that Kirby Olsen was a queer, but he couldn't do anything else but stare after her, feet glued to the spot.

This day was not getting any better.


End file.
